A Life that Makes a Difference

“How do you account for your remarkable accomplishment in life?” Queen Victoria of England asked Helen Keller. “How do you explain the fact that even though you were both blind and deaf, you were able to accomplish so much?”

Ms. Keller’s answer is a tribute to her dedicated teacher. “If it had not been for Anne Sullivan, the name of Helen Keller would have remained unknown.”

“Little Annie” Sullivan, as she was called when she was young, was no stranger to hardship. She was almost sightless herself, due to a childhood infection at the age of five. Her mother died three years later and her father left the children when she was ten. She and her younger brother were sent to an overcrowded home for the destitute where her brother Jimmie died in a couple of months. Little Annie was, at one time, considered hopelessly “insane” by her caregivers and locked in the basement. On occasion, she would violently attack anyone who came near. Most of the time she generally ignored everyone in her presence.

An elderly nurse believed there was hope, however, and she made it her mission to show love to the child. Every day she visited Little Annie. For the most part, the child did not acknowledge the nurse’s presence, but she still continued to visit. The kindly woman left cookies for her and spoke words of love and encouragement. She believed Little Annie could recover, if only she were shown love.

Eventually, doctors noticed a change in the girl. Where they once witnessed anger and hostility, they now noted an emerging gentleness and love. They moved her upstairs where she continued to improve. She was finally released to attend Perkins School for the Blind in Boston, Massachusetts, where she would learn to read and write. She struggled against a multitude of odds but was determined to learn. Anne eventually graduated as valedictorian of her class.

Anne Sullivan grew into a young woman with a desire to help others as she, herself, was helped by the loving nurse. It was she who saw the great potential in Helen Keller. She cared for her, disciplined her, played with her, pushed her, and worked with her until the flickering candle that was her life became a beacon of light to the world. Anne Sullivan worked wonders in Helen’s life, but it was an unknown nurse who first believed in Little Annie and patiently transformed an angry, grief-stricken child into a compassionate teacher.

“If it had not been for Anne Sullivan, the name of Helen Keller would have remained unknown.” But if it had not been for a kind and dedicated nurse, the name of Anne Sullivan would have also remained unknown. And so it goes. Just how far back does the chain of redemption extend? And how for forward will it lead?

Those you have sought to reach, whether they be in your family or elsewhere, are part of a chain of love that can extend through the generations. Your influence on their lives, whether or not you see results, is immeasurable. Your legacy of dedicated kindness and caring can transform lost and hopeless lives for years to come.

Do you want a life that makes a difference? Never overestimate the power of your love. It is a fire that, once lit, may burn forever.

-- Steve Goodier

How I'm Like a Pencil

It occurs to me that I have a lot in common with a pencil. That’s right – a simple and humble little pencil. Not the fancy mechanical kind. That’s too high-maintenance for me. And I’m not as showy as a plume pen or as smooth as a ball point. I don’t live in bold strokes like a heavy marker. But I’m a lot like a pencil. Here’s how:

1. Like a pencil, I have a built-in eraser. I can correct my mistakes. No, I can't change the past, but I can make it right again. And if I can't erase history (after all, what’s done is done) I can at least erase a great deal of guilt and anger with forgiveness.

2. Like a pencil, I do better if I’m sharpened once in a while. My mind and skills grow dull without occasional honing. Even my spirit and attitudes need refining if I’m to be at my best. And there is something else, too. I find that the difficulties of life wear away at me, and they can either grind me down or shape me into a person who is more capable and creative. The sharpening I get from living through tough times is often painful, but I know it can make me a better person.

3. Pencils work best in a skilled hand. And like a pencil, I can do some pretty terrific things with a little guidance. Other people bring out the best in me, and with the help of others, I can do far more than I ever can alone.

4. Like a pencil, I should leave my mark whenever possible. I too often underestimate my influence on another. I have daily opportunities to leave something good behind. That is what it means to leave my mark. It may be in small ways, it may be in the lives of people I love, people I have touched or nurtured, or even in incidental conversations struck with strangers. But, I have a mark to leave and should use every opportunity to leave something good behind.

5. Like a pencil, it is what is on the inside that matters. A pencil without lead is useless. And a yellow pencil will not do when a black or red pencil is called for. What is on the inside is all important. My outer appearance matters less than I probably think, while it’s the stuff on the inside that folks notice about me. Whether it is understanding or intolerance, love or bitterness, peace or unrest, kindness or self-centeredness, hope or despair, courage or fear, what is on the inside matters most.

6. A pencil works best on paper or canvass. It will never leave its mark on water and will wear itself down against a mirror. I do best knowing my strengths and limitations. I can’t do everything well and that is okay. There is still plenty of good to be done by doing what I do best.

7. And finally, like a pencil, the biggest part of my purpose in this life can be summed up in three words: to be useful. When I’m too broken to hold it together, when everything is ground away or worn down, when I no longer have anything to contribute, I know my life is coming to an end. But until then, my job is to be useful.

Like I said, I have a lot in common with a pencil.

-- Steve Goodier

Image: freeimages.com/John Williams

Those You Touch . . . You Change

Did you know that your money likely has traces of cocaine on it?

A study by Jack Demirgian of the Argonne National Laboratory revealed that a full 78% of the currency circulating in Miami and other major US cities carries trace amounts of cocaine. That’s probably true elsewhere, too.

They were only looking for cocaine, but I wonder what else might be found on the bills? Maybe fast-food products, such as frying grease, mustard or teriyaki sauce? Tea or coffee? And how about rouge or lipstick from purses and lint from pockets? Perhaps ink from a leaky pen? I’ve found more indistinguishable stains on some of my money than I care to think about.

What's more, we’re told that if they look closely enough, they can even learn something about where your money has been. To the store. To the beach. Even hidden beneath a mattress.

Just about anything that comes into contact with money leaves a bit of itself behind. Then, when the bills rub up against each other in a wallet or billfold, they share contaminates. Everything the bills touch will be changed, however slightly.

So it is with us. Everything we touch is changed. I used to play English hand bells. “Don’t touch the bells with your bare hands,” we were told. “Wear gloves.” The oils from our hands changed the quality of the bells.

Everything we touch is changed. And everybody we touch is changed -- even if we're not infected with something contagious. I’m not only talking about physical touch, either. Often we touch their minds and spirits and hearts. Everybody we speak to, rub shoulders with or even smile at...is changed in some minute way. These changes can be helpful or hurtful, depending on our interaction. It is like leaving a piece of ourselves behind with everyone we meet, and taking a piece of them with us.

And even little changes can make a difference. NO ONE is insignificant in this regard.

Bette Reeves said, "If you think you are too small to be effective, you have never been in bed with a mosquito." You don’t need to be a mosquito to have an effect on people around you. The question is: what little part of yourself will you leave behind? How will you influence them? Will your encounter be thoughtful or hurried? Helpful or harmful? Intentional or accidental?

There is something awe-inspiring about the influence we have on one another. Whom will you touch today? What will you leave behind, and what will you take with you?

-- Steve Goodier